


Enough

by seaofolives



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars: Guardians of the Whills - Greg Rucka
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Movie(s), Pre-Rogue One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 08:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13142757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofolives/pseuds/seaofolives
Summary: When the galaxy has taken everything away, sometimes 'enough' is the best thing to have.





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Written bc I wanted to do a Christmas fic of sorts lol. Happy Christmas!! ❤️❤️❤️

They had just lost all their food, food that Baze had been looking forward to consuming that evening—but damn anyone who thought he would trade a feast for the smiles and the tinkling laughter of the orphans who would enjoy them in their stead. The children had come with their caps and toy helmets between their hands, offering labor in exchange for a part of their food and neither Baze or Chirrut had the heart to agree to their terms. That was when they decided to give their dinner away, keeping only a little, just so they didn’t starve. 

Chirrut came back through the door in time to receive a last hug from a straggler who had stayed to pile their meager collection of books neatly on top of an old cooling unit. He laughed and nodded to whatever it was that the child had muffled to his robe. “And with you, too,” he replied before he finally sent them off with the others. 

“Well,” Baze grunted, cross-legged on his pallet as Chirrut, smiling, sat beside him. “Forget everything that I said earlier. For tonight, we’ve only got plain bun and tea.” After a second, he added more quietly, “At least they’re warm.”

Chirrut beamed, practically outshining their dying lamp with his brightness. “Then that is enough,” he said. “That there are others who will not go hungry in this solstice night, is enough to make me full and satisfied.” Reorienting himself to the man next to him, he fumbled blindly for his hand, so Baze gave it to him to save him the trouble. “Thank you for doing this, Baze.”

“You know as much as I do that this is your decision as much as it was mine.”

Chirrut smiled again. 

“Are you sure this is enough?” Baze couldn’t help but ask again, his voice still quiet. He squeezed Chirrut’s hand a little tighter, and received the same response. “It’s solstice night. I could go out and look for something else to add,” he offered. 

But Chirrut only shook his head, shifting closer. “Don’t move. I am already comfortable as we are,” he said. “Do you remember our first solstice night together?” 

Well. Although they didn’t have food, they at least had the past, and a surplus of their memories to share. Baze snorted. “How could I forget?” he asked, voice thrumming low in the silence. “That was the first night you kissed me. We were cleaning the east shrine to prepare it for the feast. We were up the steps, dusting the books, and you’d sneezed and upset two of them. We tried to catch them on both our ends but all we caught was each other’s hands. The books had broken, but I couldn’t let go when we both came down. And then you kissed me.”

“It felt like the right time,” Chirrut grinned. “And it was.” He looked down then, blind eyes missing the mark as he entwined their fingers together. 

“Baze,” he began again, “we may no longer have much for ourselves, and perhaps we will have more to lose. But for as long as I have your hand to hold…”

Baze raised his eyes to Chirrut. 

And Chirrut said to them, “I will have the world in my hand.” A happy news, which made him smile. 

Baze dragged himself closer to him and steadied his head with a hand so he could kiss him. Chirrut’s lips parted just slightly for him, just enough so they could hold on to each other and languish in each other’s warmth. Baze only pulled him closer when he opened his lips to kiss him again, massaging Chirrut’s own lips and some muscle in his cheek with his thumb. 

He parted soon after, just so he could brush their lips together, their noses and their breaths. Baze could already feel the blissful tipsiness of comfort rising up to his head. 

Chirrut interrupted him with a peck of his lips, complaining softly, “More. I’m still hungry.” Which made Baze laugh as he snickered. 

Baze obliged, anyway, angling their heads so he could kiss him again, and harder.


End file.
